Fairytales
by Sorciere
Summary: Sometimes, there can be several definitions of ‘happy end’. (Oh, and this is a R/L MOVIE-VERSE fic, people! Consider yourselves warned!)


Title: Fairytales  
Author: Sorcieré  
Category: R/L, angst, Logan POV  
Rating: PG/PG-13  
WARNING: Character death!  
Summary: Sometimes, there can be several definitions of 'happy end'.  
  
Author's Notes: This is my first fairly angsty fic. Blame Nadja Lee. She's the one who made my   
muse think angst. Anyway, I hope this is not a complete piece of shit.  
  
(Oh, and this is a R/L movie-verse fic. If you don't like that, don't read the fic.)  
  
  
Fairytales  
  
  
"Once upon a time...".  
Isn't that how many fairytales starts?   
  
What a weird thing to remember as I sit next to her, holding her gloved hand.  
  
But oddly...fitting.   
Our lives could perhaps best be described as a fairytale.   
  
I sensed her the very first moment she sat foot in the bar. A soft sent - a rose among dead leaves. As   
in the fairytales, she was the beautiful princess, young and innocent, yet strong enough to survive   
everything the world had thrown at her.   
  
Hmmm...That would make me the knight in shining armor - or actually, the knight in black leather.   
I smirk slightly at the thought.   
  
The smirk, however, quickly disappears and I softly stroke her brown and white hair.  
  
I saved her life.  
She saved my human side from the animal within me.  
And we fell in love.  
  
Of cause, I ran away - she was still too young and I had to search for my past. But I left my dog   
tags with her, a promise to return.  
Just like a fairytale.  
  
I came back several years later. I'm not sure exactly how many years passed - maybe three, maybe   
four.   
Because of my healing factor, time doesn't really matter to me.   
I don't even know how old I am.   
I see other people change, grow old and die, but on me, time passes unnoticed.   
  
Anyway, I came back. And she'd been waiting for me, no longer a child, but a beautiful woman.   
She was still untouchable, but it didn't matter to me.  
I loved her and wanted to be with her.  
  
We moved in together - lived together, talked together, slept together, got creative around that   
whole 'no-touching' thing together.   
It was the best time of what I can remember of my life. Aw, hell, I'm pretty sure it was the best time   
of my entire life.  
  
Six months later I asked her to marry me. She said yes.   
We had a summer wedding, just like she'd always wanted - she even got me in a tuxedo.  
In her white dress, surrounded by flowers and bathed in sunlight - courtesy of Storm - she was the   
most beautiful sight I'd ever laid my eyes on.  
But the most beautiful part of all was her expression. She looked so happy.  
Her deep brown eyes were alive with joy, and a soft smile was on her lips...I could have spent my   
lifetime just looking at her.  
  
Yeah, just like a fairytale.  
  
She turned 25 and, despite my rather unusual attitude towards time, I never forgot a single of her   
birthdays.  
To celebrate, we went on a trip to Alaska on my bike. It was great. And, according to Marie, every   
bit as beautiful as she had imagined.  
  
She turned 26...and then it happened. Everything chanced.  
  
A plague erupted.   
  
It hit everyone, humans and mutants alike. The doctors said it was a virus that had mutated, Ebola-  
something, and that it was 95 percent deadly among mutants, 100 percent deadly among humans.  
Some say it's the human race's punishment for destroying the Earth, like they once thought AIDS   
was the punishment of God.  
Maybe they are right.   
Maybe not.   
  
It has already claimed Drake and Kitty. Several others are sick, including Storm and the   
Professor...and Marie.   
  
There is nothing I wouldn't do to save her. Including giving her my life.  
But in this case, there is nothing I can do. Nothing. Not a fucking thing.  
Jeannie says the damn virus is resistant to everything. Even mutations.   
  
So Marie still has deadly skin, but even if she absorbed my healing factor, it wouldn't help. I tested   
that theory myself.   
I held on to her until I almost blanked out, until Jean pushed me away...and it didn't help.   
  
She's dying.   
  
And there's nothing I can do.   
  
She is getting weaker as each day passes. Her skin is pale and fever-heated, her hair clings to her   
face and she is barely conscious.   
  
But she's still beautiful.  
  
Jean has left me alone with Marie.  
She hasn't said it, but I know she wants to give me a chance to say goodbye. We both know Marie   
won't make it through the night.  
  
I use my hearing to make sure Jean isn't nearby. If she knew what I was planning, she would never   
have left me alone.   
  
I stroke Marie's hair once more ad she forces her eyes open.  
  
And smiles at me.  
  
God, I love her.   
My wife, my love...my reason for living.  
  
What is the point in near-eternal life, if you can't be with the woman you love?  
  
Marie is my life. I would walk through fire if she asked me to. I would bring her the moon for one   
of her smiles.  
  
I can't bear even the thought of living without her.  
  
I smile at her and do what I have longed to do since I first saw her.  
  
I kiss her.  
  
I let my lips touch hers without anything between them.  
  
And for a brief moment, she kisses me back.  
  
Then the darkness invades my mind, and as I give in to it, I feel Marie near me, shining and   
reaching out her hands to embrace me.  
  
And as we meet, free of poisonous skin, deadly claws and sickness, we realize something:  
  
Maybe our fairytale got a happy end after all. 


End file.
